Looking To Get In An Out
by Steelcircle
Summary: Prowl is annoyed by Grimlock's affections. Marvel G1, Earthforce post "Making Tracks". Warnings: violence, non-con, and a whole lot of snark


**Notes: **This story really doesn't make any sense unless you've read Earthforce, wherein Grimlock literally threw the Autobot rulebook out the window, and there's a small reference to "The Magnificent Six", as well.

**Warnings:** violence, non-con, and a whole lot of snark

* * *

**Looking To Get In An Out**

Prowl followed Grimlock through the halls of the Earthforce base, just a step behind and to the left of him. He protested, "You can't just make a standing order like 'All snowmen builders will be shot'. Humans build snowmen!" He suspected that this particular argument meant little to Grimlock. The Dinobot had a record of being reckless if not negligent concerning the native tenants of this world.

"Humans dumb if they in range of base," Grimlock snorted.

Prowl quickened his pace, pulling up to Grimlock's side, trying to catch his attention. He reminded, "The way you have it phrased, it doesn't just apply in the vicinity of the base."

The perfect picture of someone who was not actually listening and was instead bored out of his head, Grimlock mocked, "Yadda yadda yadda."

The casual dismissal tore it for Prowl, and he stepped in front of Grimlock, scowling. He railed, "I know you're mad about the prank the Dinobots pulled on you, but that sort of thing wouldn't happen if you didn't throw the rulebook out the window! You can't just shoot all snowmen builders. You have to actually have discipline in the first place. Then these events don't happen, and if they do, you have some logical sort of recourse for punishment."

In response, Grimlock slammed Prowl up against the wall of the hallway. Prowl sputtered and prepared to defend himself. The Dinobot had a violent streak most unbecoming of an Autobot, and he was a loose cannon. Prowl had seen this coming someday. Before he could decide between his shoulder-mounted or his rifle, Grimlock ground his body up against Prowl, hard enough that Prowl felt vaguely burned. Words of invective were on Prowl's lips, but Grimlock closed in and nuzzled Prowl's face, wiping out the words before they could be said. Prowl suddenly felt rather peculiar and embarrassed. He had considered the possibility of Grimlock physically assaulting him and detailed it out in multiple scenarios, preparing for each one. Somehow, in all his analyses, Prowl had neglected to consider that Grimlock might grab him at the shoulders, pin him with his hips, and rub up against him with an alarming urgency.

Seizing his wits by their steering wheels, Prowl slid down and out of Grimlock's crushing pin. He scrambled out from between his legs on the floor and stumbled to his feet, uncertain and reeling. Grimlock had a record concerning unwanted advances on other Autobots, as well, but Prowl had never paid it much mind, not concerning himself. He spent his time with Grimlock chewing the Dinobot out on the flaws in his command. Prowl failed to fathom how that might possibly be attractive to Grimlock.

Grimlock rounded on him and hammered him into the other side of the hall, face first into the wall. His powerful hands groped the doors that protruded from Prowl's shoulders like wings. A finger carelessly flicked over the switch to retract and extend his windows, and a window extended of its own accord, quite against Prowl's will. He seethed, "This is fraternization! Unwanted, too. Do you have any idea how many Autobots have restraining orders on you because of this exact act?"

"Only a few hundred," Grimlock husked in his audio dismissively.

"Try adding a decimal place. Do you want it to be increased by one?" Prowl snapped, struggling. He couldn't use his cannons now. They pointed the wrong way. His own strength wasn't nearly enough against the Dinobot commander. He would have to go for his rifle, as the only solution he could see.

Sounding oddly and ominously patient, Grimlock asked, "Where is rulebook?"

"Out the window," Prowl replied automatically, no small amount of frustration in his voice. His optics went wide as what Grimlock meant hit him as hard as Grimlock himself had. Prowl squeaked out a tiny, "Oh."

Grimlock spun him and backed him into the wall, denting both the wall and Prowl. He silenced Prowl with an insistent nuzzle and dropped both hands to firmly grip his hips. Hands finally free, Prowl drew his rifle and pressed it to Grimlock's side. Prowl hissed, "You aren't going to do this. First of all, anyone could see us here."

"Then we do it in command centre," Grimlock declared. He swatted Prowl's hand and took the shot with a grunt when Prowl inevitably fired. The rifle went flying across the hall, and Prowl reached for it futilely. Grimlock hefted Prowl bodily over his shoulder, face up so he couldn't even get a bead on Grimlock with his shoulder cannons. Prowl reflected that he had a lovely view of the ceiling. Perhaps if he hadn't wasted the time reaching for the rifle, if he had instead kneed Grimlock in the hip, he might have broken free. Then again, perhaps Grimlock would have just broken his leg.

Prowl struggled with a bit more intent now, feeling out Grimlock's grip for some weakness. He continued, "Do you have any idea how bad an example you are setting?" Clearly, Grimlock did not. "We aren't Decepticons, here."

"Right, me shoot you if you Decepticon," Grimlock agreed cheerily.

They passed by Bumblebee, who quickly made himself scarce, looking as if he wanted to forget whatever he had just seen. Prowl waved a hand back in the direction that Bumblebee scurried and said, "See? My point exactly. What you want to do is going to be bad for morale."

Grimlock reached up with his free arm and tweaked one of Prowl's door wings. Prowl might have found the act pleasant if he was actually turned on, but as it was, he just winced. "Him just jealous." The way Grimlock said it, he seemed to think everyone should want a piece of him. Doubtless, he thought Prowl should feel favoured.

Speaking of that, Prowl persisted, "Do you want the troops to think you play favourites?"

"Everyone know me Grimlock play favourites! Me bash favourites in head, too, when they build snowman," Grimlock reminded, referencing his closest teammates, his Dinobots. He tapped at a keypad for a moment, and the doors to the command centre opened. Prowl wriggled up, considering the command table that Grimlock was doubtless eying. The table was already heavily dented from the times when someone, usually Grimlock, had slammed a fist or palm or drink into it, trying to prove a point. What were a few more dents to it? Grimlock flung him down on the table, and Prowl found not just the collection of dents on table increased but his own. The Dinobot straddled him, desirous of continuing what he had started.

Prowl let loose a rattling, exasperated, and more than a little pained sigh. He had to start playing dirty here, or he was going to be the one being played. Lowly, Prowl threatened, "Grimlock, you force me now, and I am going to Optimus Prime myself with my incident reports."

Grimlock rocked into him and shouted, "No! Him Prime can no see those." He loomed up in Prowl's face, one arm planted to either side of Prowl.

"Optimus has to see something, or he's going to start getting suspicious," Prowl reminded, "and what he sees can either be on your terms or mine. Your choice."

"Incident reports stupid. Why him Prime need to know when we mess up?" Grimlock growled.

"They justify bringing in more supplies for repairs or fortifications, they justify the transfer of troops, if someone is or isn't working out here –" Prowl started.

"Me Grimlock could get rid of, er, reassign troops?" Grimlock started hopefully.

"You could request it," Prowl answered evenly, trying to prop himself up with his arms. His back was aching from the treatment. The interested light in Grimlock's optic band faded, and he moved in closer, knocking Prowl back down. Prowl stated as clearly as he could, "I'm not going to do this with you, Grimlock. I don't want to, and I don't think it's right. We're Autobots. We ask each other first, and we respect that 'no' means 'no'."

Grimlock sniffed and sat back, still straddling Prowl. He crossed his arms and complained, "Why you whine so much? You lucky that me Grimlock want you. Me picky."

So he met some unintelligible Dinobot standard of attractiveness. Prowl propped himself back up, as pointless as it might be, and wondered what he'd done to deserve being assigned to Grimlock. Was Optimus Prime still angry at him over that car chase? Prowl ranted, "Some leader you're being. You want to... to... goof off? Get those incident reports done first, and then you can do me."

For a moment, Prowl was sure he'd be smacked into the table again. Then, as suddenly as he had came on, Grimlock backed off, dismounted, and stomped away in a fouler temper than he'd began. Prowl started the task of checking himself over for dents and heaved a sigh of relief. There was no way Grimlock would ever get those reports done. He'd get distracted by the Decepticons or Wheeljack's latest invention or Tracks's demands that they file a requisition for more polish. Prowl knew Grimlock.

Then again, did he? He'd never seen this coming, not in a million years.

* * *

Prowl considered Wheeljack's latest invention dubiously. He asked, to make sure he'd heard it right, "So this invention of yours swaps minds and bodies?"

"Right!" Wheeljack confirmed, patting the strange two-pronged device affectionately. "I figure, we hit the Decepticons with this, and they'll be so confused sorting themselves out, they'll never know that hit them."

"I understand the idea," Prowl admitted thoughtfully. "It just seems needlessly complex."

Wheeljack looked hurt and puffed up. Lights flashing angrily, he argued, "This baby is every bit as complex as she needs to be."

Why couldn't they just make some more Omega Supremes? The idea was sound enough, so Prowl supposed that was why Optimus Prime had denied it. Sound ideas had no place in a war where their leader suicided over a video game. Despite his bitterness, Prowl was reminded of one good thing, that suicide over a video game was something he knew he never needed to worry about from Grimlock. Prowl inquired, "So what's stopping the Decepticons from grabbing this and using it on us?"

Wheeljack rubbed the back of his head and hemmed, "Still working on that part."

"See that you do," Prowl noted curtly.

Grimlock barged into the lab without so much as a how-do-you-do and wrapped his arms around Prowl's waist, squeezing him. Prowl squeaked and watched Wheeljack's optics go wide at the sight. Prowl raised a finger and asked weakly, disbelief clear in his voice, "You got the reports done?"

"Me did," Grimlock confirmed, sounding both put-upon and proud. "Now you put out."

Wheeljack took a few steps back and wondered, "Do I want to know?"

"No!" Prowl answered Wheeljack vehemently. He wriggled back around to look up at Grimlock and levelled a finger at him. "This is my body that's on the line here, so I have to see those reports first."

"Then look," Grimlock replied, impatiently shoving Prowl toward a computer terminal.

Prowl accorded Grimlock's easy willingness to let him look at the reports a bad sign. He scanned through them, and his fuel pump sank. Grimlock had indeed filed all the incident reports, and he had done them properly, without question. He had left out a few details, the sort that would get their operation called into question, but it was all there. Besides, there wasn't any rule against falsifying reports, not here, a fact that made Prowl cringe. Vainly, he tried to look for some error that he could use against Grimlock, but if there was one, he couldn't find it. Prowl muttered, "By the celestial spires..."

"See? It all there," Grimlock said smugly. He leaned over and clamped both hands on Prowl's shoulders.

"It is," Prowl admitted sombrely. "I could almost kiss you."

Grimlock scooped Prowl up in his arms and growled, "No almost."

Prowl glanced over Grimlock's shoulder and saw that Wheeljack had buried himself in the guts of the transfer device and was humming rather loudly. Grudgingly, Prowl looped an arm around Grimlock's neck and allowed himself to be carried. He was a machine of his word, but right now, he wished he'd used his cannons instead of his words. Grimlock clutched Prowl close to his chest, and his strides were purposeful and determined. Prowl tried to figure out where Grimlock was taking him. The Dinobot seemed to possess no sense of shame when it came to improper fraternisation. He felt a frigid draft, the one that Wheeljack always said he would fix, and the bright light of the winter sun glinting off the snow blinded him for a moment. Before he could object, Grimlock tossed Prowl into a deep snow drift. Prowl sputtered, "Out here? That's ludicrous! Anyone could see us."

"Let them watch," Grimlock declared, lowering himself onto Prowl. He really was the voice of confidence. Unfortunately, he was utterly lacking in reason.

"Decepticons could see us," Prowl seethed, providing some of that lacking reason. The Dinobot was heavy and sunk them both into the snowdrift. The flakes tickled Prowl's joints, and his systems automatically started shunting engine heat to his extremities to prevent freezing, filling him with a warm flush.

"Then me Grimlock beat them," Grimlock said, as if that was such an obvious solution that Prowl shouldn't have asked. He pressed up against Prowl, driving snow into more inconveniently sensitive places.

His whole body tingled from the contrast of the frigid, fluffy snow that was swiftly melting to chilly wetness to the hot, hard metal body of Grimlock atop him. Prowl tried again, "Do we have to do this outside?" He found it quite bad enough that he had to do it all.

Grimlock groped his headlights. Then, he scooped up a handful of snow and slicked it down Prowl's hood, leaving a wet streak as it melted. Grimlock flicked his hand dry thoughtlessly, stray droplets splattering Prowl's face, and he explained, "Me Grimlock not want you Prowl to overheat."

"How considerate of you," Prowl deadpanned, wiping his face.

"Me told you, you Prowl lucky," Grimlock reminded. He wrapped his legs around Prowl's hips.

Prowl hoped that Grimlock just didn't know his own strength when his embrace turned crushing, when he dug his knee into Prowl's thigh so hard that something inside went snap. Prowl yelped, stifling a scream, as his own hydraulic fluid trickled out of his leg. He seized Grimlock by the chin, drawing that hateful red optic band to his own pale blue optics. Pain in his voice, he fairly spat, "You're breaking me, Grimlock."

"It not me Grimlock's fault you built weak," Grimlock scoffed, not easing his grip one whit.

Prowl's mind scrambled for options, and he came up with, "If Wheeljack has to spend a week fixing me, that's a week before you can do this again."

Grimlock considered that for a while. Finally, he eased up on the pressure and grunted in acquiescence, "Fine."

Prowl sighed, because if Grimlock ended up satisfied here, he would take Prowl up on it again. When Grimlock wasn't satisfied in anything, he tended to fly off the handle. Why should bed be different than battle? An idea hit him, and Prowl felt queasy to even think about it. He had to give it a shot, though. If it worked, he might just make it out in one piece. Prowl directed, "Put your hands behind your back," and when Grimlock did, looking curious, Prowl cuffed him.

Grimlock immediately tugged at the cuffs and snarled, "What?"

"I know that you can break them. They're just metal. I'm just metal, too, and if you're exerting enough strength to break them, you're exerting enough to break me," Prowl explained, stroking Grimlock's cheek out of some daft idea that it might calm him.

"Straight slag me can break these," Grimlock grumbled, still tugging at them.

"Think of it as a challenge. Are you up for it?" Prowl grinned, despite himself.

"Me Grimlock up for anything," Grimlock proclaimed. He paused, as the restriction of motion really hit him, and asked, "But how we do this now?"

"You're the commander," Prowl said coolly. "Just let your subordinate do all the work here." He wondered how he was going to make this cockamamie idea work. He had to admit, "I am rather rusty, however."

"We knock rust off," Grimlock said, rubbing against him.

"Last time I did this with anyone was back in the Academy with another cadet. He said we wouldn't caught, but wouldn't know you it, we got caught. I was nearly drummed out of the Academy, and rightfully too," Prowl explained absently. Lacking any better idea, he embraced Grimlock and hesitantly wedged his face in under the Dinobot's helmet to kiss his neck.

Grimlock moved his head to the side to allow Prowl better access and rumbled, "Who him?"

Prowl was just about to try parting his lips when he pulled back and parted them for a different reason. "What does it matter?"

"You mine now, that why," Grimlock proclaimed.

Prowl winced and wondered if perhaps he could perhaps accidentally on purpose push Grimlock into the line of fire of Megatron's fusion cannon. No, that type of thinking was too Decepticon. He'd just need to arrange to have human orphans tour the Earthforce base. They could use the PR, and Grimlock did squirm so when he had to play nice. "They transferred him to a whole different section. I never saw him after the court martial, and the last I'd heard of him, he died on Cybertron. Saw him on a list of names one day."

Grimlock finally shut up. Prowl moved back in and pressed his lips to Grimlock's neck, experimentally licking the metal cording. The Dinobot tasted sooty, the way a well-used battlefield smelled, and Prowl nearly gagged. He said sharply, "You need a shower."

"Me Grimlock just get dirty again." Grimlock shrugged, unperturbed and unconcerned.

Prowl tried nibbling on Grimlock's jaw line instead, hoping for something more palatable. He was disappointed, but he persevered, working his way up one of the seams of the Dinobot's mask. Willing his churning fuel tank to settle, Prowl planted a kiss right on the middle of Grimlock's mask, using his arms to pull himself in close. He didn't get much of a reaction, but it would be foolish to think a facemask would be as sensitive as lips. In fact, he was rather uncertain where to even try on Grimlock. The Dinobot was thickly armoured, which would dull his sensors, and he wasn't meant for detail work. Prowl slipped his hands down in around Grimlock's waist and tickled him there. Logically, Grimlock wouldn't be very sensitive anywhere, as a warrior, but there were a few places that everyone was sensitive. Steeling himself for an adverse reaction, Prowl stretched up and softly kissed Grimlock on the optic band. The Dinobot bucked wildly, gifting Prowl with a new batch of dents.

Prowl grumbled in pain, "Guess you felt that."

"That me Grimlock's optic band!" Grimlock protested.

Prowl lightly ran a finger over that red optic band, watching Grimlock shudder. He was correct then. Grimlock was too turned on to interpret the sensory load as pain or discomfort. Smiling grimly, he traced out patterns on Grimlock's optical band, enjoying watching the Dinobot squirm for once. With his other hand, he scooped up a handful of snow and rubbed it into one of Grimlock's shoulder joints, hoping to wash out that battle smoke taste that clung so persistently to his frame. The sudden cold in his joint sent Grimlock thrashing again, but Prowl was ready, and he rolled out of the way, tucking his door wings in, just before Grimlock went crashing into the melted hollow in the snow. Having washed the shoulder joint, Prowl tried it, probing the mostly sheltered area first with a finger and then his tongue. Happily, he tasted only the wet of water. Grimlock shook in a most gratifying way. Prowl was getting somewhere now.

He checked the time and was aghast. They'd really been out for a roll in the snow that long? Prowl had much more important things to do, like check on Wheeljack's latest modifications to their security systems and draft patrol routes. He also remembered darkly that he needed to find an orphanage willing to tour the base. Desperate times called for desperate measures. Prowl nudged Grimlock, trying to push him on his side, and the Dinobot awkwardly complied, grunting. He ran his fingers up and down the edge of Grimlock's torso armour and finally urged, "Pop it."

Grimlock looked baffled, so Prowl explained, flushed with embarrassment at his verbal slip, "Unlatch your torso armour for me."

"Why me do that?" Grimlock insisted.

"Your sensors are more sensitive without all that armour dulling down their input." Prowl explained primly. He wasn't going to explain why he could even think that way. Moving on with his life meant not returning to that dark place in Yuss.

Grimlock snorted derisively, but with a click of latches, he opened his torso armour. Prowl was no technician, but it dawned on him that sopping melt water all over Grimlock's internals might not be the brightest of ideas. He hastily shook his hands to dry them and delicately reach out to touch a sensor grid. Grimlock trembled but not nearly as much as Prowl was expecting. So the Dinobot really did have dull sensors under that thick armour! He pressed harder, more confident, stroking the sensor bundles from root to tip. The tremors took a deeper, more profound hold of Grimlock, and his optic band flickered erratically. Encouraged, Prowl moved in his other hand to tickle and tease another bundle. Snow flew around them, a miniature blizzard spawned of Grimlock's thrashing. Prowl pressed in close against the Dinobot, trying to keep the snow out with his own body.

The fearless, stoic warrior broke into unashamed moans. He was inarticulate, but he never was good with words. Prowl wasn't shocked. Grimlock was close to overload, that elusive state of irrational euphoria, Prowl could feel it in the heat suffusing Grimlock's circuits, even through the insulation, the heat that turned snow to steam. Still, the diehard-tough Dinobot needed something more to push him over the edge. Dryly, Prowl kissed a third sensor grid, rubbing the cables between his lips.

Grimlock threw his head back and bellowed his bliss like a war cry. Prowl's audios buzzed and twinged from the sheer volume of it, and he scooted out of the way before Grimlock could flatten him with his final throes. Tense seconds passed by before Prowl declared Grimlock well and truly out. Shakily, he stood, his one leg threatening to cave in on him for want of a functioning hydraulic system. The dregs of the fluid clung stickily to the inside of his thigh, adding insult to injury. Prowl contemplated leaving Grimlock out in the snow, but such an act would be irresponsible.

Glowering at the unconscious Dinobot, Prowl closed up the open chest panels and dragged Grimlock into base. He'd worry about the wet slick he was leaving later. Prowl stopped at Grimlock's door. Maybe he shouldn't know Grimlock's key code, but the thing about having no rules was that there wasn't any rule that said he couldn't. Grimlock's room was larger and generally nicer than any berthing station Prowl had seen in the base. The Dinobot was such a little entitlement snob sometimes. At least he had abandoned that ludicrous crown. With his broken leg, Prowl found himself unable to actually lift Grimlock up onto his berth. Instead, he left Grimlock on the floor next to the recharging berth and took back his handcuffs. It was better than Grimlock deserved.

Prowl turned on his heel, ready to leave, when he heard Grimlock stir, scrabbling against the floor, followed by a groan. Prowl winced, scowling righteously. Was there no end to Grimlock's stamina? He turned back, because if the Dinobot was going to tackle him, he wanted to be able to see it and dodge.

Instead, Grimlock propped himself up on and elbow and fairly purred, "You Prowl good."

Prowl railed, "What do you even find attractive about me?" He could change his colours. The Terran law enforcement agencies had any number of colour schemes. He could change his alternate mode. A Crown Victoria would work just as well. He was a Transformer, and there were few things he wouldn't change to be rid of Grimlock's affections.

Grimlock said, "You not Dinobot, but you not afraid of me."

"What about Blaster?" Prowl demanded. "Blaster wasn't afraid of you." He knew better than to suggest Optimus Prime.

Grimlock made a noise like the regurgitation of fuel and sat up straight. He rather clearly pouted. "Him Blaster think him better than me!"

Prowl rubbed his chin, seeing the train wreck for what it was. So Grimlock wanted someone who wasn't afraid of him but who wasn't powerful enough to be a valid threat. Unfortunately, speaking his mind around Grimlock was one thing Prowl refused to change. He crossed his arms and muttered, "Now I see why Nightbeat has a restraining order on you," and a large number of others did also. The pattern finally made sense. He just wished that he didn't slot into the puzzle so neatly.

Grimlock climbed into his berth and made a yawning noise. He offered, "Join me Grimlock?"

Prowl shook his head fervently and excused, "I have to sit through a security detail right now. I'm replacing Ironhide." He clamped a hand over his mouth, suddenly ashamed. The conservative old Autobot would seen everything on the crystal clear monitors! No, it wasn't bad enough that Prowl had just had relations with his commander, but he had them in public, outside, with some bondage thrown in for good measure, thanks to those trusty handcuffs. He couldn't forget that he'd asked Grimlock to open up his armour, to complete the perversion.

Prowl rubbed his chevron. Ironhide was going to kill him. There was only one solution. He declared, "I am going to kill you someday."

Sleepily, Grimlock chortled, "See? You Prowl funny."

"And you funky," Prowl spat back. "Take a shower, Grimlock."

"Me take it with you," Grimlock leered.

"Oh, take off," Prowl fumed and stormed out of the room.

* * *

Prowl could guess when Grimlock would want him again. It really came down to the next time Grimlock had free time. So he made sure that he was ready. Grimlock found him sure enough, but the Dinobot paused at the threshold, a mixture of confusion and rage clear on his expression. He blurted, "But you mine, Prowl!"

"I don't see a tag of ownership," Tracks said smoothly, beautiful blue optics glittering with amusement. He leaned down and grazed gently on Prowl's chevron.

"Tracks?" Grimlock sputtered, looking at Prowl accusatorily.

Prowl cuddled up against Tracks and shrugged. He excused, "Tracks is the most attractive one here. Don't suppose you want to join us?"

Tracks coughed and corrected, "Most attractive one, period."

"No!" Grimlock said quickly, too quickly, and stalked out of Prowl's room.

Tracks rolled off Prowl and sat up on the side of the berth, looking at Prowl rather intently. He asked, "Sure you don't want to finish?"

Prowl sat up, as well, and shook his head. "Thank you, but no thank you. I really do appreciate this."

"Any time," Tracks assured, reaching out to hold Prowl's hand. "You do think I'm the fairest of them all, don't you?"

"Of course," Prowl answered and honestly, too. Who could be more beautiful than someone who insured that Grimlock would never touch him again?

**The End**


End file.
